


Arts and Drafts

by Jillian_Bowes



Series: Lemon Boy [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post Reverser, excessive blushing lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillian_Bowes/pseuds/Jillian_Bowes
Summary: Marc is in love with Nathaniel, and Nathaniel has to figure some stuff out.





	Arts and Drafts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These characters as I write them are not intended to be role models. They are teenagers in teenage situations. Anyone who chooses to glean life lessons from my fics may do so at their peril. ... Enjoy!

Lunchtime was always hard for someone like Marc. All his classmates had places to go, people to see, but not him. He hardly ever left his comfort zone if he could help it, and at lunchtime, his comfort zone was located exactly underneath the stairwell of the courtyard. Sure, it got lonely sometimes, but Marc was far more equipped to deal with loneliness than, say, opening up to another human being. Everyone probably thought he was a freak anyway… It was definitely a step up from his old school, at least.

Sighing, he unwrapped his plain cheese sandwich and took a sizeable bite and started to flip through his notebook, until--

“Hey, Marc.”

Marc started at the voice, _Nathaniel’s_ voice, and a chunk of sandwich got sucked down the wrong pipe. When he started coughing profusely— _oh god, oh god, how embarrassing—_ Nathaniel knelt down and clapped him on the back until he could breathe again.

He looked up at Nathaniel’s blurred figure through watery eyes and stuttered out a _thank-you._  

“Sorry!” Nathaniel blurted. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no, you didn’t—ah, I just—I wasn’t expecting you?” Marc stammered, cheeks rapidly heating up. “Um, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he added with an awkward chuckle.

Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I thought maybe we could start working on the comic today, if you’re free.”

Marc’s eyes widened in surprise. “You—really? You were serious about that?”

Nathaniel grinned. “Well, yeah!” Then he faltered. “Weren’t you?”

“Yes!” Marc answered without thinking, and Nathaniel’s smile returned. “I just wasn’t sure if—I mean, don’t you usually eat with Alix and them?”

“Usually, yeah, but I figure--when’s a better time to get the creative juices flowing than lunch, right?” Nathaniel stood and offered Marc a hand up. Marc stared for a few seconds in surprise before taking it almost reverently. “Come on, there’s this café down the street I like to work in.”

Marc hesitated. “Oh, I already have a lunch though,” he said, eying his sad-looking sandwich and water bottle on the floor.

“Toss it,” Nathaniel said. “I’ll get lunch, my treat.”

Marc’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “No, no, you don’t have to—”

Nathaniel cut him off. “No, really.  After the whole akuma thing—think of it as me making it up to you.”

“O-Okay.” Marc could feel his blush reaching the tips of his ears as Nathaniel pulled him to his feet, and he could swear there was a tinge of pink on Nathaniel’s cheeks as well.

The walk to the café was short, but rife with awkward silences. Neither of them was exactly a social butterfly, as it turned out. When the café came into view, Marc sped to open the door for Nathaniel. Whether he was in a rush to look polite or to get to a more comfortable setting, he couldn’t say.

Nathaniel nodded shyly in thanks and landed them a small table by the window. “Anything catch your eye?” he asked, setting down his sketchbook to dig through his bag for supplies. “Pastry, soup, whatever?  I can go get it.”

Marc picked at his gloves. “Um, whatever?” he said sheepishly, and Nathaniel chuckled. “Surprise me, I guess.  As long as it’s vegetarian.”

“That’s a lot of pressure on me!” Nathaniel joked. “What if you don’t like it?”

Marc smiled. “I'll eat almost anything that doesn’t have a face.”

“Fair enough.” Nathaniel turned on his heel and made for the register; Marc kept his eyes on him all the while. His bright ginger hair stood out among the café’s small crowd. It really was a pretty color, he mused, resting his chin on his palm. Though it might be nice if it didn’t obscure his face. His eyes were so pretty, too…

Soon enough, Nathaniel picked up their orders and walked back to the table. Marc cleared his throat and tried not to look like he had been staring. Because he _wasn’t_ staring. “I decided to play it safe,” Nathaniel said, “so I got you the macaroni and cheese. Nobody hates this stuff, right?”

Marc beamed and tugged the tray toward him graciously. “My big sister actually does, but between you and me, I don’t think she’s even human.”

“She must not be.” They shared a smile and dug into their meals. Nathaniel got some potato soup and kindly offered him a spoonful, but Marc had to decline.

“Oh, I don’t think I can,” he said apologetically. “Isn’t there bacon in it?”

“Actually, no, I made sure it was kosher before I ordered it. No bacon here!”

Marc wanted to smack himself. Of course Nathaniel wouldn’t order something with bacon in it. “R-Right, sorry, I wasn’t even thinking!”

Nathaniel proffered the spoon again, and this time Marc took it. Their hands brushed and Nathaniel’s cheeks pinked, but Marc was sure the color paled in comparison to his own blush when he put the spoon in his mouth. _Nathaniel’s mouth was on this spoon. Holy cow._

The color on Nathaniel’s cheeks had begun to fade when Marc handed the spoon back, but as Nathaniel reached out to take it, he knocked Marc’s cup of water over, spilling water into his lap. “Oh, god!  I’m so sorry!” He stood up and rushed to Marc’s side with a handful of napkins. “Is your notebook okay?  Here, I’ll—” He frantically patted down the Marc’s pants.

“Th-Th-The notebook is safe!” Marc stuttered, mostly in shock that Nathaniel was _touching his lap._ Sort of. “I-It’s no big deal, just water.” He took the napkins from him gratefully and Nathaniel sat back down.

Nathaniel had been so embarrassed over his misstep that he stayed red in the face for several minutes. Marc didn’t mind—it was cute. “We’ve got about half an hour left,” Nathaniel reminded once he’d recovered and checked the time.

“Oh, right.” Marc had almost forgotten why they were here.

“So I was thinking, Reverser is really cool,” Nathaniel said, flipping through his sketchbook until he got to a collage of Reverser drawings. Marc bit his tongue to keep from smiling. _That’s not really me,_ he reminded himself. “His power could be really useful fighting bad guys. I thought maybe he could be the villain in the first comic, and then once the heroes stop him, he could join the team for the future issues.”

Marc practically gasped. “Are you—seriously?”

“Well, yeah, but only if that’s what you want too. We’re a team now, right?”

It was… really hard to focus when Nathaniel looked at him like that, wow.  “Yeah, yeah we are.” And they got to work.

Half an hour passed quicker than either of them had anticipated. They got the bare bones of a story board finished, but there was still much more work to be done. Marc wished they could stay there and work on it for hours. “Class starts soon,” Nathaniel said sadly. “We should go.” Marc hummed in agreement. “Hey, you wanna meet up in the art room after school and keep working?”

Marc grinned. “Sure!” He wasn’t in much of a hurry to get back home today anyway.

Nathaniel blushed—again!  “Cool.” They walked back together, conversation between them flowing more easily than it had before. They had to go their separate ways when they got to the school, and they parted somewhat awkwardly. They weren’t exactly at the hugging stage of friendship, and shaking hands would have been super weird, so they settled for a half-confident fist bump. Not really Marc’s style, but whatever, it was Nathaniel.

Marc was distracted throughout the rest of his classes. All he could think about was the comic—what he would write, how he would write it, whether Nathaniel would like it. That last part was the most important. Nathaniel was just so cool, and _so_ talented. Marc wasn’t sure if there was any comparison between the two of them. He tried working on a decent script draft, but all he managed to accomplish was nearly chewing his pencil in half.

When the last bell rang, he was the first one out of the classroom, nearly mowing down Marinette and Alya in the hallway on his way out. His stomach dropped when he made it to the art room—the door was locked, a note of apology from the teacher pinned on it. It wouldn’t be open until tomorrow.

Marc sighed. Of course this would happen. He waited a few minutes for Nathaniel, but he hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe he’d gotten there before Marc and just went home? They really should have exchanged numbers. _Yeah, like I’d even be brave enough to ask for it. Stupid!_ Maybe he should just leave…

“Well, that’s a bummer,” Nathaniel said from behind him, making him jump. “Sorry, I should try to be less… sneaky?”

Marc laughed, embarrassed. “You’re not sneaky, I’m just—” He stopped and shook his head. “I guess we’ll just have to work on our comic tomorrow?”

“Nah,” Nathaniel said, and Marc’s gut twisted. “You should just come over. We can work at my place.”

Marc had to be dreaming. There was no way Nathaniel had just invited him to his _house,_ right? A handful of seconds passed and Marc realized he was just sitting there with his mouth open. “Uh!  Um, sure! Y-Yeah, I can—yeah!” he managed when he found his voice.

“Oh, great!” He sounded surprised that Marc had agreed. “Um, is anyone supposed to pick you up?”

“No, I walk to and from school, I just have to text my sister and tell her I won’t be home for—uh, till later.”

“I walk too, so we can just go. As long as your sister is cool with you staying ‘for till later’?” Nathaniel teased with a smirk.

“You’re mean,” Marc joked, firing off a text to his sister. “Let’s go.” And they were off.

Nathaniel’s place was only a few blocks further than the café, and every walk they took, Marc realized, was more comfortable than the last. A sudden thought popped into his head that had him wondering what it might be like to hold Nathaniel’s hand, but he quickly willed it away. Nathaniel liked people like Marinette and Ladybug, not—

Not Marc.

“You okay?” Nathaniel asked him when he’d gone quiet.

Marc tried a smile. “Yeah, just um, thinking about our comic.” 

“Try not to worry about it too much,” Nathaniel assured. “It’s gonna be great.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

Nathaniel huffed a laugh. “Believe me, I do not have confidence. Not in myself, anyway.” Then he looked Marc straight in the eye. “But I’m confident in you.” His words left both of them blushing deeply, averting their gazes to the ground in front of them.

“Th-Thanks,” Marc squeaked when he could speak again. “I’m confident in you too.” 

Marc’s stomach was in knots by the time they made it to Nathaniel’s house. Spending time with a friend shouldn’t have made him this nervous, but here he was. The house wasn’t overly remarkable; it was small and looked pretty old. Still nicer than Marc’s place by a mile though. “It’s not much,” Nathaniel said as he guided Marc inside. “It’s just me and my mom here. But it’s functional.”

Marc smiled softly. “I like it,” he said honestly. “It’s homey.” It really was. There were photographs and paintings lining the walls, and antiques on every shelf. The furniture was worn, but tasteful. Marc pictured all the time Nathaniel and his mother might have spent bonding on the old couch.

Nathaniel took him by the elbow and led him past the living room. “I’m home,” he called over the sounds of running water and dishes clinking together. “I brought a friend over, too.”

“Hi, honey,” said a sweet voice from the kitchen—his mother, presumably.  “That’s fine, just don’t make a mess!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nathaniel said with a smile. He turned to Marc. “C’mon, my room’s down the hall.”

Marc gulped. “Y-Your room?” They were going into _his room._ His room!

“Is that okay?”

Marc didn’t know. Was it okay? They were just friends. He was just visiting his friend’s house. His friend’s room. Working on a friendly comic. As friends. What wasn’t okay about that? Nothing, he decided. “Um, totally!” His stomach was just churning for no reason, but that wasn’t all that uncommon for him.

“Cool.” He led them into his bedroom—a small space, littered with crumpled up papers and completed artworks lining the walls. “Sorry, I forgot about the mess.” Nathaniel took a seat on the little couch against the far wall and patted the cushion next to him. “I like to work here sometimes,” he said, picking up a lap-desk from the floor and setting up shop.

Marc sat down crisscross as far away from Nathaniel as he could, which still left only about a foot of space between them. He took a deep breath to calm himself and opened his notebook. He stared at the blank pages. “S-So…” He didn’t know where he was going with this. He had hoped if he started talking, he might find some words along the way, but—

“Hey, um—” Nathaniel cleared his throat. His tone was softer now, almost sad. 

Marc finally met his eyes. “Yeah?” Oh, god, he was gonna throw up all over Nathaniel.

“I just wanted to say, uh—” Nathaniel, looking pained, rubbed the back of his neck. He did that a lot, Marc noticed. Was he about to tell him something bad? _Hey, your writing sucks and I thought I’d just wait to tell you in private. Let’s not make a comic together, that was a stupid idea._ “I’m really sorry.”

Oh. That was all? 

“For back when you got akumatized. I thought I was standing up for myself,” he continued, “but that’s no excuse. I know you’re, um, a good guy. And I’m really sorry I hurt you like that.”

Marc let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding—he didn’t know what to say. Apparently he was taking too long to conjure up a response, as Nathaniel was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “You don’t have to forgive me or anything,” he said shakily, “I just—”

“I forgive you,” Marc blurted. “I mean, I already forgave you.”

Nathaniel exhaled, relieved. “Thanks.” He looked like he was about to say something more when a knock on the door frame stopped him. The boys jerked their heads up to see Nathaniel’s mom peeking her head in. She was a short, chubby woman with a sweet-looking round face and dark hair. Marc figured Nathaniel’s bright locks came from someone else.

“Nate, dinner’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks, Mom. Oh, and this is my friend, Marc. We’re working on that comic together.” Marc blushed. Had she and Nathaniel talked about him before?

“Hi, Marc. You’re welcome to dinner as well.” She smiled and turned back to Nathaniel. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay? _Bisous.”_

 _“Bisous,”_ Nathaniel said back with a blush of his own.

When she left, Marc hid a giggle behind his hand. “You guys are so sweet.”

“Shut up,” Nathaniel joked. 

Feeling brave, Marc thought he’d poke a little more fun. “And she calls you Naaate,” he sang. 

Nathaniel puffed up. “Lots of people do!”

“Oh yeah?” Marc leaned in. Who?”

“Marinette, sometimes.  I think.”

And Marc was reminded of his former crush on her. Did she ever like him back?  Did he still like her? Or was Ladybug his only crush now? Marc faltered for a moment, but then he made a decision. “Maybe I’ll call you Nate, then.”

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Marc pretended to look affronted. “What, Marinette can say it, but I can’t?”

“Well—”

“Nate.”

“No—”

“Nate.”

“Stop!” Nathaniel was starting to laugh, and Marc couldn’t help but join.

“Nate, Nate, Nate!”

Nathaniel shoved him playfully and Marc fell backwards. “You’re lucky nothing’s short for Marc,” he jabbed. “Unless _Marc_ is short for something. Marquis?”

Marc snorted, sitting back up. _“No,_ it’s just Marc, thank you very much. I guess there’s only room for one single-syllable name in this city,” he mock-pouted.

Nathaniel blinked. “Well I, uh—you—you can call me Nate sometimes, I guess,” he spluttered. “I mean, if you _really_ want to that badly.” 

Oh, god, how was he so cute?

 _In a friendly way!_ Right?

Marc’s face split into a grin. “Okay. _Nate.”_

Nathaniel’s face went pink. “Don’t push it.”

“Sorry, Nate. I’ll keep it to a minimum, Nate.” They shared a laugh together and Marc realized he hadn’t felt so light in ages. When was the last time he could laugh with and poke fun at a friend? He could still feel butterflies swarming in his stomach, but they didn’t hurt like they usually did. It was just… pleasant.

Nathaniel’s face softened. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this much.”

The observation startled Marc somewhat; he didn’t know how to respond. “I-I’m happy,” he tried. The words felt foreign, strange on his tongue. 

They stared at each other for a moment more before Nathaniel cleared his throat and looked back to his sketchbook. “We should, um, keep working on the comic.”

“Yeah, r-right.”

They worked for hours, bouncing ideas off each other until Marc’s stomach growled _embarrassingly_ loudly. Nathaniel heated up his mom’s dinner for them, which thankfully had no meat in it. Some kind of pasta with ingredients he couldn’t identify with his unrefined palate. “Sorry it’s not like, fresh or anything. Mom has to work really late sometimes for her other job, so…”

“No, no!” Marc said around a mouthful, rushing to swallow without choking to death. “It’s really good.  I don’t get stuff like this at home.”

Nathaniel quirked an eyebrow at that, but if he wanted to press him more, he didn’t show it. Marc was just fine with that—they hadn’t been friends very long anyway. “I’ll tell her you liked it. Maybe I can ask her to make it for next time, too.”

Marc’s heart swelled at the promise of _next time._ “Th-That sounds great.” When they finished their dinner, Nathaniel took their bowls to the kitchen, leaving Marc alone in the bedroom. He sighed dreamily, listening to the sound of Nathaniel washing the dishes. Marc wished he could have him over at his place and share a meal with him, but Nathaniel would probably hate it. His little apartment was smaller, nowhere near as cozy. And food-wise? Nope. No way. 

Marc shook his head—there was no sense in worrying about that right now. He picked up some a few of Nathaniel’s drafts and looked through them. He was _so_ talented… He noticed something that struck him as odd—all of the drawings of Reverser were faceless. It looked like some of them had been drawn at one point, but erased.

“Sorry that took so long,” Nathaniel said, and Marc’s head popped up. He hadn’t heard him come in. “Our dishwasher is broken, so—What are you doing?”

“Sorry!” Marc squeaked. “I was just looking at what you had so far and, well…”  His curiosity got the better of him. “Why doesn’t Reverser have a face?”

Nathaniel sat back down much closer than before—they were almost touching.  Marc’s mouth went dry. Nothing to worry about, he reminded himself. Just the coolest guy ever sitting really close to… the lamest guy ever. “Right.” Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck again. “I haven’t been able to get it to look—I dunno. I was gonna ask if you could model for me—er, for the drawing?”

“M-M-Model? Me?”

“You don’t have to be Adrien Agreste or anything, I was just gonna see if I could use you as a reference. If that’s okay?”

Nathaniel wants to… just look at Marc’s face? And _draw it?_ Oh. _Oh._ Uh. Well, who was he to say no, right? “S-Sure, that’s fine. Whatever helps the creative process!”  Did that just sound so lame?

“Okay, cool, so hold still and I’ll… yeah.” Nathaniel picked up his sketchpad and got to work.

Marc tried his hardest not to move, but he was quickly turning into a bundle of pure nervous energy. His knee bounced and he fidgeted with his fingerless gloves, occasionally picking at his nail polish. He tried not to look directly at Nathaniel too long, tried not to notice how his tongue cutely poked out of his mouth while he drew.

His eyes must have wandered too much, because Nathaniel had to take Marc’s chin in his fingers so he would face him. His touch was gentle, not like some aggressive hairdresser or anything. Soft. Marc suspected that that was the exact moment his soul left his body. Nathaniel probably didn’t even notice that he’d _touched_ Marc’s _face,_ nor the emotional crisis Marc was currently going through. Marc squeezed his eyes shut, breathed through his nose. _Calm down, calm down…_  

“You okay?” Nathaniel asked, still holding Marc’s chin. Marc nodded minutely beneath Nate’s fingers with a weak _mhmm._ “Could you open your eyes?  I can’t get their shape right.” 

Marc let out a puff of breath and did as he was asked, trying not to look too much like a cornered animal. He was probably failing miserably, seeing as Nathaniel’s pencil had slipped out of his hand and he was just staring at Marc with a sort of… puzzled look on his face? His brows were knit together like he was thinking hard about something that confused him.

Before Marc could even ask what was wrong, Nathaniel surged forward and kissed him with a gentleness that had the butterflies in Marc’s stomach _combusting._ Marc tried to lean into him, but Nathaniel was already pulling away, covering his mouth with a horrified look on his face. _“S-Shit,_ I—I didn’t mean to do that--!” His face and neck almost matched the color of his hair, and Marc’s face probably wasn’t much better.

“No, no, no, no, it’s okay!” Marc said quickly, realizing once the words were out of his mouth that it _really was okay._ “I-I don’t… I don’t mind.” He definitely didn’t mind.

“No, it’s not!” Nathaniel cried. “I’m not—I don’t—I don’t like—!” He looked about halfway to a panic attack. Marc reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but Nathaniel batted it away. “I think you should leave.”

Marc’s heart sank. “What?”

Nathaniel looked down at the floor; Marc couldn’t see his face behind his curtain of hair. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

Marc felt his eyes sting and his lip quiver, but he held his tears back just long enough to gather his stuff and get out the door. _What… in the world… just happened?_   They were having a great time. And suddenly Nate had kissed him? And then kicked him out.

And now Marc was crying. Outside. In the dark. He really needed to get home.  It wasn’t terribly far, but he’d hoped that Nate might have walked him home at least. Wiping his tears away with his sleeve, he took out his phone and dialed his sister. He hugged himself with his free arm and started walking as he waited for her to pick up.

 _“Yo,”_ she answered, typical flat affect and all.

Marc sniffled. “Madeleine, I-I’m coming home now.”

 _“Finally. I thought I was gonna have to start calling the morgue.”_ There was a pause, and her tone softened. “ _What’s wrong?”_  

“N-Nothing!”

_“Bull. Get your ass home, please.”_

Marc almost smiled. At least she said _please_. “I’m working on it, Mads.” She thankfully stayed on the line with him as he walked down the street. There were still a few people meandering about, but he still felt uneasy being alone amongst strangers. He passed the Dupain-Chengs’ bakery and had briefly had the thought of visiting Marinette. She knew Nathaniel pretty well, maybe she would have some advice. But it was getting late… He could talk to her at school. Maybe. If he wasn’t too humiliated to go back.

He made it home unscathed, at least physically. There was still a persistent ache in his heart. Madeleine was sprawled across the ratty couch, the only light in the room coming from the television and her phone—which her nose was currently buried in.  Maybe he could sneak past her to his room.

“Nerd!” Never mind. “Talk to me, little brother,” she said, now upright and patting the spot next to her.

“Madeleine, I really just want to go to bed.”

“Come _on!_ Don’t go to bed all sulky. You want some of my beer?” She sat up and reached for her mostly-empty bottle, shaking it in front of him.

Marc rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. “No, Mads. Gross.”

She smirked and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just tell me what’s up, man.”

“Don’t call me that,” Marc muttered.

“Sorry, sorry. Are you… being bullied again? There’s other high schools in the area that we could—”

 _”No,”_ Marc interrupted. “I’m not switching schools again, everyone would think I’m _so_ lame.”

Madeleine scoffed. “There’s nothing lame about packing up your shit and bailing out on people who don’t treat you right.”

“I’m not being bullied again,” Marc huffed. “I just—” _I’m just a big idiot._ He bit down on his thumbnail, and he felt Madeleine squeeze his shoulder. “There’s this boy…”

∞

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Alix demanded. “Marc is so nice, and—ugh!”

Nathaniel winced. Yeah, he messed up. Everything was so messed up. “I know,” he sulked, shutting his locker. “Can we just go to class please?”

Alix checked her watch and shook her head. “No. The bell doesn’t ring for another ten minutes, which means I have ten more minutes to bust your balls.”

Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough?”

“No! How do you think Marc feels? First, you shred his notebook and get him akumatized, and now this? You make it hard to be your best bud, sometimes. He’s the sweetest kid ever, and now he’s gotta deal with the fallout from _your_ sexual crisis—”

Nathaniel rushed forward to cover her mouth, shushing her loudly. “Do you want the whole school to hear?” he hissed. “There’s no ‘sexual crisis.’ I like Ladybug. That’s it.”

Alix smacked his hand away. “Believe me, dude. I _know_ sexual crises. I’ve been there. That’s what this is.”

“I like _girls!_ Only girls! Not boys. I’m not gay, or bi, or whatever.”

Alix frowned, her eyes darkening.  “Why is that such an issue for you?”

“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he backtracked. “It’s not… an _issue,_ I—I just know that’s not me.” Alix folded her arms, unimpressed. “You know I love you, right?” he said honestly.

Alix hung her head and sighed. “Yeah, yeah. I know. But you’re a moron.”  Nathaniel couldn’t disagree with her there. She slung an arm around his waist and they started walking. “Let’s go to class. And if we see Marc on the way there, you’re gonna pull down his pants and start kissing his ass. But not literally. You’ll be expelled.”

They did not see Marc on the way to their first class, or the next one. Nathaniel was pretty relieved, to tell the truth. What would he even say to Marc? What would Marc say back? Would he yell? Would he cry? Oh, god, what if he _cried?_  

Lunchtime rolled around, and he knew there would be no chance of seeing Marc in the courtyard unless he went deliberately creeping under the stairwell, which he had no intention of doing. But it seemed Alix was determined to make Nathaniel miserable.

“You’re gonna go over there,” she said, pointing to Marc’s usual hideout, “apologize _again_ for being stupid, and—I dunno, buy him lunch or something.”

Nathaniel let out a sharp exhale through his nose. “What if he stays mad?”

“Then you kiss his ass until one of you dies.” She smirked and pushed him in the direction of the stairs. “Now go get him.”

Nathaniel stumbled forward, hands shaking at the thought of confronting Marc. He still couldn’t tell if Marc was actually there or not, and he prayed to anyone who would listen that Marc was _anywhere else._ No matter how badly Nathaniel needed to fix things…

As luck would have it, Marc was right where he always was, tucked under the stairs and hunched over, looking small as possible. There were big, black headphones covering his ears, and he was writing in a different notebook from the one he usually favored. A wave of guilt overcame him—Marc hadn’t stopped writing about Ladybug completely, had he?

Well, he figured, standing there staring like a creep wouldn’t make this go any smoother. He sat down next to Marc, who was so engrossed in his writing that he didn’t even notice. Nathaniel cautiously tapped his shoulder. Marc jolted, head snapping up and looking more like a deer in headlights than any human should. Nathaniel attempted as welcoming a smile as he was able, and Marc hesitantly took off the headphones and hung them around his neck.

“Can we talk?” Nathaniel asked, voice trembling.

Marc frowned. Not like an _I’m pissed at you_ frown, but more like a _my kitten just died in my arms_ frown. Okay, maybe not _that_ sad, but it made Nathaniel’s heart lurch all the same.

“I don’t know, Nathaniel,” he said, sounding resigned.  “I don’t think—I don’t we should.”

Ouch. He wasn’t expecting that. Nathaniel cleared his throat. “Okay, I um, I get that. I’m not gonna ask for a second chance—no, third chance. Shit, I’m the worst.  Look, I just want to say—I’m sorry.  Really, really, _really_ sorry.”

Marc blinked, his expression unchanging. “Thanks,” he said after a beat. “Is that all?”

 _Not if this is the last time I ever get to talk to you._ “No.” But what else should he say?  “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Marc flinched. “Yeah, you made that pretty clear,” he mumbled.

Shit. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that. “W-Wait, no, I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Marc said, firmer this time. Nathaniel had never heard that tone from him, only from Reverser. He might have been proud if he wasn’t the cause of it. “I think you should go.” Marc made to put his headphones back on, but Nathaniel grabbed Marc’s hand to stop him.

“Marc, please, I—I’m really screwing things up, but I can’t leave until you don’t hate me at least a little less.” 

Marc looked down at their hands and gently tugged his out of Nathaniel’s grip.  “I don’t hate you,” he said softly.

“You don’t?” Nathaniel asked hopefully.

“No, Nate,” and Nathaniel’s heart skipped a beat at the nickname. “But it hurt, that you—that you kissed me even though you didn’t—” Marc’s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and started again. “Even though you didn’t want to.”

“But—” _I did want to._ He did, didn’t he? Looking into Marc’s big green eyes, he knew there could be no denying that anymore. But he couldn’t say it. Why? Why, _why_ couldn’t he say it? Not even now, when it mattered the most. “I d—” He choked on the words, they wouldn’t come out. It felt like every eye in the courtyard was fixed on him, every ear tuned into his words. What would they say about him if they knew? Chloé already gave him enough trouble.

Marc was still waiting, looking sadder and more confused with every passing second. Nathaniel had to do something. He took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly, covering Marc’s hand with his. Marc didn’t pull away, but something in his expression told Nathaniel told him he needed to hurry up and make his point.

“This is hard for me to say, but please, let me try.”

Marc nodded. “Okay,” he almost whispered.

All he had to do was tell the truth, tell Marc how he was feeling. He could do that. Maybe not without vomiting, but he could try. “Marc, if I could do that night over…”

Marc shut his eyes tight. “Please, don’t,” he pleaded, clearly expecting the worst.

“If I could do that night over,” Nathaniel said again, squeezing Marc’s hand, “I’d still kiss you, and I’d keep kissing you until the sun came up. And we would walk to school together.” Marc looked up at him in disbelief, eyes filling with tears.  “Hand in hand,” Nathaniel finished. He laced his finger’s with Marc’s. _I’m telling the truth, Marc._

Marc gulped. “Wh-What are you doing? I don’t understand.”

“I’m really scared,” Nathaniel confessed. “I didn’t know I could like you like this, but—but I do. I know that now.” 

“I… I know what that’s like. It’s still hard, sometimes,” Marc said, softly. “But it isn’t all bad.” He finally cracked the tiniest of smiles, and Nathaniel felt like he could fly. “I-I like you too, you know,” he said, even softer this time.

Nathaniel laughed, relieved. He couldn’t help but throw his arms around Marc’s neck. Marc gasped, but soon wrapped his own arms around Nathaniel’s middle. He pulled back just enough to look Marc in the eye without separating from him completely. “Can I take you out to lunch again?”

Marc blushed like mad and nodded. “Yeah.”

∞

This time, they stopped by the Dupain-Chengs’ patisserie for some sandwiches and a perhaps excessive amount of sweets. Marc insisted he didn’t need _that_ many eclairs, but Nathaniel wouldn’t hear it. “I’m trying to make up for being the worst,” he’d said.

They walked across the street to the Place des Vosges and sat on the edge of the enormous fountain. Marc thought it almost poetic—this was where it all went wrong for them, after all. Maybe now things would start to go right.

“I never want to make that mistake again,” Nathaniel said out of the blue once they finished their meals.

“I get why you did it, if it helps,” Marc tried to console him. “Being yourself is difficult. Especially if you’re not like everybody else.”

Nathaniel frowned. “How can you be so cool about it?  I was awful to you.”

Marc sighed through his nose. “Do you know why I left my old school?”

Nathaniel shook his head.

“I went there for years. I had to—it was the closest school to my old apartment.  It was small, so everyone knew each other. If one rumor started in the morning, the whole school knew by lunchtime.” Marc laughed mirthlessly. “I let it slip to someone—someone I thought was my friend--that I liked boys and wearing makeup sometimes. Soon enough, everyone knew. The bullying started, and it didn’t stop.” Marc paused to wipe a stray tear from his eye, and Nathaniel tentatively wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Marc leaned into the touch easily.

“It got worse every week.  I started to pull out my hair—” He stopped himself. “Well, we can go over my whole origin story some other time. Just, it got bad enough that my sister did everything she could to get us into a new apartment so I could change schools.” He looked Nathaniel in the eye. “I tried to be myself, and it cost me everything. So, yeah. What you did sucked,” and Marc smiled a bit before saying, “but _I get it._ ”

Nathaniel sucked in a breath and tugged Marc into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Marc.  For everything.”

“I’m okay now,” Marc murmured. “Better than okay.”

Nathaniel pulled back, and for a moment they just looked at each other. “C-Can I kiss you?” Nathaniel asked him, timidly. “For real this time?”

Marc couldn’t get any words out to respond, so he just nodded silently. Nathaniel tucked some of Marc’s hair behind his ear and leaned in.  Marc closed his eyes—the butterflies in his stomach were back with a vengeance, and once their lips met, those butterflies went wild. It was better than any scene he’d written between Ladybug and Mightilustrator. Maybe now he could write about Mightilustrator with Reverser instead…

Marc could tell that neither of them really knew what they were doing, but they went slowly and learned together. He couldn’t help but feel like they weren’t nearly close enough—he scooted closer and brought one hand up to cradle Nathaniel’s cheek, resting the other one on his chest. Nathaniel tightened his hold on him, not breaking the kiss for a second.

Yeah, Marc could get used to this.

∞

“I still can’t believe Cat Noir held me in his arms,” Marc said, watching Nathaniel sketch out the scene of Reverser’s de-transformation. The sight was mesmerizing.

Nathaniel chuckled. “Should I be jealous?” Marc playfully smacked him on the shoulder. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!  Y’know, I also heard you reversed Sabrina and Chloé.”

No way.  Marc burst out in a fit of giggles. “Are you serious?”

“Sabrina told me! Chloé got down on her knees and did her nails and everything. But don’t tell anyone she told me, Chloé might kill her or something.”

Marc clicked his tongue. “That poor girl.”

Nathaniel just shrugged. “She goes along with Chloé, teases everyone with her.  I don’t have a whole lot of sympathy for her.”

“I don’t think she has anyone else, though.”

Nathaniel put down his pencil, shaking his head. “Nope.  No, no, nope. I know what you’re thinking, but you’ll just get hurt if you try to be her friend.” He leaned back into the couch and put an arm around Marc’s shoulder. “Let her figure it out herself.  I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Marc leaned into him. “My hero,” he said sarcastically. “Fine, we can talk about rescuing her from Chloé’s clutches later. We have a comic to finish.”

Nathaniel smiled, his eyes flicking down to Marc’s lips. Taking the hint, Marc leaned in and kissed him sweetly, the way he wished their first kiss could have gone. He didn’t hold it against Nathaniel anymore, though. When they kissed, Marc could feel just how much Nathaniel wanted to make it up to him. He poured his heart and soul into every kiss, and Marc did the same. 

Nathaniel cupped Marc’s face with a warm hand, making Marc’s stomach tingle.  Marc kissed him deeper, craving a closeness he didn’t quite know how to get from him. He nearly whimpered when Nathaniel pulled back. 

“I just realized I never asked you,” Nathaniel murmured, caressing Marc’s cheek with his thumb.  “Will you be my boyfriend?”

 _Boyfriend._ Marc thought he could die of happiness right there. He remembered the first time he ever saw Nathaniel’s art on the school website, the first time he wrote a story based on it, the first time he saw Nathaniel’s face. He never imagined he’d be here. Just when his silence had Nathaniel looking unnerved, Marc crushed their lips together. “Yeah, yeah I will,” he said, beaming.  He leaned in again, but Nathaniel stopped him.

“Remember my mom gets home early on Fridays,” he reminded him, but Nathaniel went in for another kiss anyway.

In these moments, Marc didn’t think he could love Nathaniel any more than he already did, but he was always proven wrong.  Not that he would admit that to him yet—it was way too soon.  He didn’t mind keeping it to himself though, as long as Nathaniel kept holding him like this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'm not done with these two yet... Subscribe to the series for updates. :)  
> Special thanks to mischiefmanager for her help and making sure this didn't suck too bad, even though she doesn't watch the show. True friendship. :')


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